


The Escort

by sad_ghost_kid



Series: The Escort [1]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Almost completely PWP, Blowjobs, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Smut, VERY light bondage, but it's pretentious in case i make this a series, diry talk, grinding against furniture, neal getting dominated and loving every moment of it, neal undercover as an escort, oh also neal cums in his pants thats important to note, set sometime in the series when neal hasnt gotten laid in a long time, the title is way more pretentious than the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-30 01:22:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3917950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sad_ghost_kid/pseuds/sad_ghost_kid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This week, Neal was undercover as a high class escort, and it seemed that his current target was most certainly into voyeurism. And in order to get the information that he needed, Neal had to play along... not that he minded.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Escort

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here it is! my first fic for ao3! (but dont worry, i've been writing since 2007)  
> in my opinion, this is some of the best smut i've written. so, enjoy!  
> and no promises, but there mayyyy be a sequel to this. We'll see how it goes.

"Ah... ah...!" Neal gasped, stumbling into the hotel room. This week he was undercover as a high class escort, and it seemed that his current target was most certainly into voyeurism. And in order to get the information that he needed, Neal had to play along... not that he minded. 

Discreetly, while chatting over a bottle of wine, the target, Adam Blake, had taken advantage of Neal's escort status. In the dim lighting, Adam had let his hand slip onto Neal's upper thigh. Soon, that hand dipped to his inner thigh, fingers teasing the sensitive skin beneath the expensive trousers. Neal had responded to the touches with vigor, twitching and biting his bottom lip to keep quiet. It had been months since anyone had touched him there, like that, and years since he had been with another man. Neal had forgotten how much he enjoyed being subject to the will of large, strong hands. 

And when that hand had made its way to Neal's crotch, caressing his cock through the layers of fabric, he had gotten hard within moments. So he really didn't mind his current situation at all. 

Every step or twitch or movement of his lower half was agonizing for Neal. The crotch of his trousers was simply not big enough to accommodate his swollen cock and the friction was like a drug; it felt so good but was just not enough. 

Adam locked the hotel room door behind them, moving to set his briefcase on the bed. He opened it, pulling out a coiled length of rope. "Are you ready?" he asked, his brown eyes glinting in excitement. 

Neal licked his lips, before holding out his arms, wrists up. "Please." 

Accepting the consent, Adam stepped over to Neal and took his right hand, looping the rope around his wrist before pulling that arm around to his backside. He brought back Neal's other arm, wrapping it with the rope and securing the two limbs at Neal's back. When that was done, he reached around, pressing Neal against him. 

The undercover con artist gasped as Adam's hard cock pressed up against his ass, hips rocking halfheartedly. Adam undid the button of Neal's suit jacket, then a single button of his dress shirt, allowing just enough room to slip his hand inside and pinch at Neal's nipples. Neal gasped, thrusting back at the bulge behind his ass, his face flushed unabashedly with need. 

But Adam's hand was only a tease, and soon he moved to clutch at Neal's hard dick, roughly rubbing it just enough to make Neal squirm. And then Adam was stepping away, leaving only a whisper of, "Come for me, pretty boy..." as he pressed Neal in the direction of the closest piece of furniture. 

Typically, Neal was not the type to take orders... but he loved to be dominated sexually by other men. 

And so Neal, cock hard and arms restrained, did as told. The closest thing to get off with was the plush armchair. He put one knee on the cushion for leverage, then began grinding his clothed cock against the arm of the chair. He let out a moan at the initial friction, managing to subdue his outbursts to gasps with almost every subsequent thrust. 

It was agonizing but oh so delicious. 

Neal's hips thrusted sporadically, unable to keep any sort of rhythm in the face of the overwhelming pleasure. It had been too long since his dick had been touched by anything other than his own hand, and too long since he had felt another man's eyes boring into him while he engaged in any sort of sexual activity. It was overwhelming. 

Neal's hips shuddered and hitched, causing him to let out a yelp. He leaned forward, biting into the top of the chair, reflexively muffling himself. He ground his confined erection faster and faster against the arm of the chair, moaning breathlessly into the upholstery, his eyes pinched shut and cheeks bright red. He was getting so close...

And then there were hands on his shoulders, pulling him backwards and away from the chair. All he managed was a gasp of surprise before being tossed onto the bed, flat on his back. Neal's cock throbbed within his trousers, and he could not restrain his hips from thrusting shallowly into the air. "A-Adam..." he gasped, painfully close to begging for release. 

Neal leaned into the touch as Adam's rough palm caressed his cheek, not even flinching when a tie was brought over his eyes and secured as a blindfold. He opened his mouth eagerly when Adam's fingers pressed past his lips. And when those fingers were replaced by his hot, thick cock, Neal sucked and moaned zealously. In the back of his mind, Neal knew that the entire white collar team would see the inevitable bruising on his lips once this was through, and somehow, that just made this whole ordeal even more arousing. 

Though he was a few years out of practice, Neal was no stranger to giving blow jobs, and he took every inch of Adam's cock with vigor. His own dick throbbed in his trousers, aching to be touched, granted release, but Neal savored every moment that his need was prolonged. And that need was only made stronger by the sounds of Adam gasping above him, and the feeling of the man's hot dick thrusting viciously into his mouth. 

"F-fuck... You're so hot..." Adam groaned, and the words only made Neal more aroused. He felt Adam lean forward to brace himself on the headboard, clearly having trouble restraining himself from pounding uninhibitedly into Neal's mouth. "Taking me like the little whore you are." 

At that, Neal couldn't hold back the moan of enjoyment and lust. In a way, Adam was actually right, and that just made this so much hotter. Neal was on the job right now, with intent to end up with Adam as his part time sugar daddy, part time employer (as Adam's sexy secretary, he'd have access to endless incriminating evidence). 

It didn't take much more for Adam to find release, and tears burst from Neal's eyes as the hot cum poured into his mouth and down his throat. He swallowed eagerly, reveling in the tremors that followed Adam's orgasm. 

Adam's rough hand caressed Neal's cheek again as he removed himself, letting the faux-escort catch his breath before leaning in to an open mouthed kiss. Neal reciprocated hungrily, only to gasp and shudder when Adam gripped harshly at his neglected cock. 

Neal's hips thrust into the touch; his lips merely trembled as Adam continued to ravish him. The pleasure was simply too great. Neal could only moan and writhe as Adam trailed kisses down his jawline to his throat, biting and sucking to leave a line of bright hickeys. Neal was helpless to the pleasure. He didn't even realize until it was too late that he had started to beg, "Adam... p-please..." 

The rough, forceful rhythm of the heel and palm of Adam's hand drove Neal back to the edge, and for the first time in years, he found release at the hands of another man. He couldn't bite back the cry as he came in his pants, orgasm rolling through him with every spasming thrust of his hips. But Adam didn't let up, still rubbing at Neal's clothed cock, urging it to empty fully into his boxers. 

Adam nipped at Neal's earlobe, whispering, "Thats it, pretty boy, come for me like the dirty little whore you are. Make a mess of yourself." Neal trembled, moaning when Adam rubbed at his crotch even harder. His cock ached as it was denied respite from its release, but oh it felt so good. Adam gave a husky chuckle, "All this, and I haven't even touched your perfect little ass yet. If I can make you beg with just a touch," he gripped Neal's cock through his trousers for emphasis, eliciting a breathy moan, "you'll be screaming my name before I even have two fingers up your hole." 

Neal was already becoming hard again, talk of being taken in the ass by Adam exciting him. (He absently wondered about Adam's opinion on vibrating butt plugs.) Neal knew that he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about that fat cock up his ass after this first meeting with Adam. He would have to come back...

Feeling Neal's hardening dick, Adam moved so that he was lying over the faux-escort. He ground their crotches together, grunting into Neal's mouth. The friction and heat was rapidly becoming too much to bear, and Neal could do no more than cry out when he came for the second time. His cock sputtered, further soiling his boxers and trousers. He felt Adam shudder above him, cumming again as well, gasping and muttering about Neal being his beautiful, thirsty little whore. 

Exhaustion washed over Neal and he drifted, body slowly relaxing. Dear god, he hadn't had sex this good in ages. 

. . .

"Hey... Hey, Nick..." Adam cooed, patting Neal on the cheek, "wake up pretty boy."

Neal hummed, eyelids fluttering as he woke up. Adam was sitting on the edge of the bed beside him, holding a glass of water. Neal blinked and moved to sit up, momentarily forgetting where he was and why. But he came back to himself as he felt the ache of his stiff shoulders--ah yes, his arms had been bound behind him. His cheeks flushed at the memories of what had happened earlier, of how he had gotten to the point of begging. 

Neal eased back against the pillows he had been propped against--he must've really been out if Adam had been able to move and untie him without him waking. 

"How are you feeling, pretty boy?" Adam asked, pressing the glass into Neal's hands. 

Neal took the water gratefully, drinking almost half of it before responding. "I... I'm good," Neal's lips lifted into his trademark grin, "I really enjoyed this." And that wasn't his alias speaking, nor was it any of Caffrey's other masks. Neal had thoroughly enjoyed himself with Adam... even if all this was only a means to an end. 

Adam smiled, "I enjoyed this too, pretty boy." Gently, he brushed his fingers through Neal's disheveled hair. "Would you like to do this again?" 

And this was Neal's opening to get close to Adam, as was his assignment. Yet, Neal's reaction was wholeheartedly sincere, "Absolutely." His cheeks grew pink once again. 

"I hoped you would say that," Adam murmured, leaning in to kiss Neal deeply. The faux-escort's hand went to Adam's shoulder, squeezing gently, reveling in the moment. In between kisses, Adam asked, "How does dinner on Wednesday sound?"

Neal smiled against Adam's lips, "Sounds lovely."

. . .

It was close to 5pm when Neal stepped back into the White Collar office, a shit-eating grin on his face. Adam had escorted him to a cab--after making sure that the cum stain in his trousers wasn't immediately noticeable--with the promise to call before Wednesday in order to schedule their date. Neal had taken the cab home to change before making his way back to work. In his own way, Neal was on cloud 9. 

Neal knew that there was a spring in his step, that there were obvious hickeys above his shirt collar, and that his lips were swollen and bruised; and he found pride in that. As far as anyone at White Collar, aside from Diana and Peter, knew, Neal was straight. (Since Diana was gay and he was bi, they had perused gay bars together while she was on the rebound from breaking up with Christie.)

He knew that Jones and Diana, the only agents still in the bullpen, saw these things, and that they were surprised. Neal could only grin as he made his way to Peter's office. Jones was blatantly confused, and Diana sported a knowingly smug look. 

"Ooh, Caffrey got laid," Diana chided good-naturedly. 

Neal snickered and tipped his hat in her direction. He couldn't resist, "And _he_ wants to see me again on Wednesday." 

Jones' confusion morphed into understanding and a blush tinged his dark cheeks at the realization. Neal simply laughed, continuing on to the short stairwell out of the bullpen. 

Neal slipped into Peter's office, excited to see the man's reaction. Peter had known what this case had entailed, but Neal highly doubted that he would not be phased by the hickeys and bruises. He was right. 

"Neal!" Peter greeted, before going wide-eyed as he took in his CI's appearance. He hesitated before asking, "...Should I even ask?" 

Neal just grinned, "All you need to know is that Adam is taking me to dinner on Wednesday. And that if this continues, I'm going to have to stock up on lube and condoms."


End file.
